Staking a Claim
by emrie
Summary: Amy and Donna have lunch together. Santos Administration.


**Rating**: PG-13

**Summary**: Amy and Donna have lunch together. Santos Administration.

**Author's Notes**: While I've always been a JD shipper, I've never been one to hate on Amy. She's difficult, but she's not a vindictive villain or an irredeemable bitch. And I don't think Donna's out to get her back or have the last laugh or anything. It's subtler than that. This is my take on how Amy would handle the JD relationship. (This whole story is based off of one line that just came to me; you might be able to guess what it is.)

**O**

"Mind if I join you?"

Donna looked up from the memo she was reading into the expectant face of Amy Gardner. "Of course not," she said quickly, starting to clear a space. "Here, you can just hand me those."

It was just before three on a Friday, and the mess was almost empty. Donna had slipped out for a late lunch, hoping to catch up on the some of backlogged papers from her in-box. Normally, she and Josh made a point of trying to meet up for lunch, but he'd been with the President at a summit in India for the past two weeks.

Amy settled into the chair opposite Donna, pushing her tray onto the table at a slight angle. She plucked a piece of paper off the top of Donna's pile and studied it. "What's this?"

"That's the First Lady's itinerary for her trip next week," Donna explained. Helen Santos was traveling through rural Appalachia, speaking in and visiting a number of public schools to promote the President's education plan.

"Nice," Amy said, reading over the list of stops. Her expression and tone were, as always, inscrutably flat-affect. She looked up over her dark-rimmed glasses. "I'm impressed. When I first met her it sounded like she didn't want any of this, but this is great."

From a few heart-to-hearts with Mrs. Santos, Donna knew the First Lady often felt scorned by Amy Gardner, whom she claimed treated her like an inconsequential housewife. For the sake of professionalism Donna always assured her that Amy meant no harm, but secretly she sympathized; whether Amy meant to or not, she still had the capacity to make Donna feel like a naïve little secretary again.

"She's really very enthusiastic about the President's education plan," Donna explained evenly. "Especially with their kids in public school."

"Right." Amy put the itinerary back on the stack of papers and took a large bite of the slice of cheese pizza on her tray. "Man, I'd forgotten how great the pizza is here!"

Josh was always enthusing about the pizza as well, but Donna didn't mention that. She fiddled with the remains of her salad, feeling like she was back in high school again. Sometimes Amy struck her as one of those annoying girls she'd known as a teenager, able to eat whatever she wanted without consequence and still look gorgeous.

"So," Amy paused and sipped from her Coke can. "Any fun plans for the weekend?" She didn't give Donna a chance to answer. "There's this new bar near Georgetown that I've heard has great music on Friday nights. You wanna go check it out?"

Donna opened her mouth, not sure how to reply. Josh was getting home that evening. "Amy, I'd love to," she started, hoping she sounded sincere, "but—"

"Oh, god, I forgot." Amy set her soda can down with a clunk. "Josh gets home tonight, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Donna smiled apologetically. She made a mental note to move the dry-cleaning from the living room couch before he got home. Maybe she'd even get a chance to make the bed, although that certainly could be seen as a waste of time.

"The President's insisting he take the weekend off?"

"He is." She only hoped that there would be no emergencies before Monday.

Amy smiled, that open-mouthed smile of hers which was so disarming, so hard to read. "And you're trying to get all this work out of the way before the weekend." It wasn't a question.

Amazing how Amy could do that, how she could take the most ordinary of situations and make Donna feel foolish. She doubted Amy had meant anything with her remark, but it still made her self-conscious. Self-conscious of the fact that Amy, with her degrees from Brown and Yale and her relentless work-ethic, would probably never drop all her work for a weekend to celebrate her boyfriend's homecoming.

She tried to be casual. "A lot of it's just stuff I was supposed to do weeks ago. You know how it is."

"Totally. Every time I finish one thing, my assistant is putting five others in front of me. My desk is a nightmare." Amy chuckled, and for a moment Donna felt comfortable. Like they were colleagues, two female staffers just sharing lunch and chatting. But that didn't last long; pushing boundaries had always been more Amy's style.

"Listen, Donna." She wiped her hands on a paper napkin and leaned back in her chair, her gaze direct. "Things have been awkward between you and me recently, and I can only assume it's because of the Josh thing, and I just don't want you to worry that I'm upset about it or something."

"I wasn't worried," Donna lied. More than once she and Josh had discussed Amy's reaction to their relationship, or lack thereof. Josh had speculated that she was angry, while Donna had sympathetically mused that Amy might be nursing a broken heart.

"I'm really happy with Paul," Amy continued. Paul was her boyfriend, whom Donna had met a few times at various formal functions. He was an artist who taught sculpture at Georgetown, and had a laidback personality that was a nice counterpoint to Amy's intensity. Josh had said he thought Paul was good for her.

"That's great, Amy," Donna said, and meant it. She didn't harbor any ill will towards Amy, only a lingering inferiority complex. "You know, I had the nicest conversation with him at that thing last month, he was telling me all about the show he has coming up in November. I was very impressed."

"Yeah, he's pretty wonderful," Amy said dryly, draping an arm along the back of the empty chair beside her. Donna envied her nonchalance. "He's sensitive, he's patient. I used to pick fights with him when we were first dating, just to see if I could get him angry, and it never worked. The man has no temper." She shook her head, looking vaguely amused. "I'm actuallly starting to enjoy it."

The same would never be true of Josh, and they both knew it. He was argumentative by nature, and it was part of what Donna loved about him. He was impatient and quick-tempered, certainly, but mixed in there was a passion and an integrity which made it easier to deal with his occasional rants. Their new relationship had certainly softened some of the rough edges between them, but they still argued sometimes.

Amy had obviously been thinking along the same lines about Josh's temper. "You know, if you ever need any pointers for dealing with Josh, I've had some experience. He can be a jerk, but if you know how to handle him…" She smiled wryly, implying that, one girlfriend of Josh Lyman to another, they could be allies.

Donna had to bite back a petty dig about not needing to handle Josh, because she understood him well enough to solve their fights. The contrast reminded her again of why Josh and Amy had never worked out, despite their mutual attraction. Amy wanted to win at any cost, and that attitude would always clash with a competitive person like Josh. He responded to a softer touch, someone who wasn't a doormat but let him play the alpha role.

After knowing Josh for ten years, Donna hardly needed advice about him. But she only shrugged and said calmly, "He has his moments, but I'm pretty used to them by now."

"You must be a saint," Amy dead-panned. "Whenever he started in with that arrogant posturing and that screechy indignation, I wanted to wring his neck." She swirled the liquid in her soda can, staring thoughtfully into space. After a minute she chuckled, almost to herself, then looked back at Donna. "He does give great head, though, doesn't he?"

Donna stiffened, certain she hadn't heard that right. "What?"

Amy leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "You know what I'm talking about. That tongue of his. I always used to tell him he should spend less time talking and more time…you know." She grinned wolfishly.

Donna felt trapped. She had learned, during an equally awkward conversation almost four years ago, that being too honest with Amy could be dangerous. But refusing to answer would only make her seem like the girl at a grade-school sleepover who got squeamish about sex. Or worse, not answering could imply that she didn't actually have any idea what Amy was talking about. Which was certainly not the case.

She was trying to think of the perfect pithy response when she caught the subtle expression that flickered across Amy's face. If she didn't know better, she would have said that Amy looked almost…self-conscious. She knew she'd said something provocative, and she was worried that she'd overplayed her hand, worried about Donna's reaction.

And just like that, Donna understood what Amy wanted from this impossible conversation. Amy didn't want Josh for herself — she didn't even want to upset Donna — she just wanted to stake a claim on Josh. To remind Donna that at one point she'd even had a claim to begin with. It was an insecurity thing, this need of hers to compete with Donna when she didn't even want the prize.

Realizing that, Donna actually felt a little sorry for Amy.

So instead of detailing her sex life with Josh or acting horribly offended, she only smiled briefly, tilting her head to one side. "If you don't mind, Amy, I'd rather not talk about that at work."

"Right, of course not." Amy sat back in her chair, reaching for her soda again. "No offense." She was trying to sound nonchalant, but her vaguely sullen tone and the shrug that accompanied it were almost adolescent.

"None taken," Donna said calmly, for once feeling like she had the upper hand. Gone was the dynamic in which she felt like a naïve schoolgirl. This time she got to be the mature one, unruffled by Amy's teenage antics. "I should get back to the office though," she said, standing up. "Finalize the changes in the itinerary." She tossed her trash in one of the bins and headed out of the mess.

Amy caught up to her on the stairs. "Hey Donna? Look, I really didn't mean to upset you before."

Donna smiled tightly at her. "You didn't."

"I'm not very good at this."

At that Donna turned to look at her, confused. "Good at what?"

Amy gestured awkwardly, giving Donna another glimpse beneath her veneer of confidence. "This whole girl talk, let's do lunch thing." She sighed. "Ironically, I'm not very good at being friends with women."

"I'm sure that's not true," Donna said, not unkindly.

"It's just, I've always wondered why you and I weren't better friends, and now that the Josh thing is out of the way, I was thinking that could maybe…happen." Amy smiled, and for once Donna wasn't reminded of a predator.

"I see." Donna politely refrained from pointing out that it wasn't really the Josh thing that had prevented a friendship, so much as the fact that Amy tended to disregard people at the assistant level. She was never rude, but if someone didn't have a graduate degree or a political title they didn't play at her level. She'd ignored Donna, not out of romantic tension but because to her, Donna was merely the person who connected her phone calls to Josh.

"Anyway, I go that way." Amy hooked her thumb in the direction of the West Wing.

Donna took a few steps towards her East Wing office, then on a whim turned back. "Amy?"

"Yeah?" Amy paused with her back against the door, holding it open.

"Josh is going to be working late next week, you know, catch up since he's been gone. If he's not keeping you here every night, maybe we could go check out that bar you mentioned."

A genuine grin spread across Amy's face. Wicked, but in a fun way. "Can we try to pick up college guys?"

"If you want."

"Excellent."

The two women stood there for a moment, smiling at each other. Donna felt like a teenager again, but in a good way. She'd missed having close girlfriends in recent years. She'd drifted away from the other assistants ages ago, and CJ had never quite felt like an equal. She wasn't entirely sure if she trusted Amy, but surprisingly she found that she wanted to.

"I've got a meeting," Amy said finally.

"And I should go finish this."

"Tell you what, I'll have my office call your office."

Donna smiled, and this time she didn't have to fake it. "Sounds like a plan."

Amy nodded once, then turned and disappeared into the bullpen, calling out over her shoulder, "Have a nice weekend!"

**O**

That night, in bed, Donna relaxed in Josh's loose embrace, leaning back against his chest. She was hovering in a pleasant place, fully relaxed but not yet asleep. These past few weeks she'd been sleeping badly, but she hadn't even realized it until now. She would sleep well tonight.

"I missed you," Josh whispered into her hair. He'd been repeating that all evening, since the moment he'd walked through the door and pulled her into a wonderful sweet kiss. He hadn't shaved and smelled like an airplane, but it hardly mattered. She hadn't even had time to mention the Thai food she'd ordered before he was pulling her down onto the couch. Later, after reheating dinner and eating it in their underwear at the kitchen table, they'd finally made it into the bedroom.

"Mmm," Donna agreed. She was tracing the fine hairs on his forearms, lost in thought. "You really don't have to go in until Monday?"

"The President said he'd have the Secret Service remove me if I tried." He sighed, and his breath tickled the back of her neck. "I have so much to do, though."

"I'm sure Sam took care of as much as he could."

"Still." He tightened his arms around her. "I'm afraid I'm going to be practically living there next week. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm gonna hang out with Amy."

"Amy who?"

"Amy Gardner," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Josh reared back, up on one arm, while she lay on her back looking up at him. "What?"

"You're spending time with Amy Gardner? Voluntarily?"

"Josh, you're getting high pitched," she said calmly, reaching up to touch his face. "We had lunch together today, and she mentioned this bar she wanted to check out and I said I'd go with her."

"Wait, you had lunch together?"

"In the mess."

"Wow. What'd you two talk about?" He grinned. "Me?"

She almost said yes, almost divulged the awkwardness of the conversation. Almost told him everything Amy had said, and teased him about that compliment. But at the last moment she remembered that flicker of uncertainty she'd seen in Amy's expression, and decided that some things shouldn't be repeated. "You wish. Believe it or not, Josh, there are other subjects two intelligent women can discuss."

"If you say so." God, he was handsome when he looked at her like that. She ran her palm over the stubble on his chin, torn between sleep and kissing him again, and he leaned into her touch. Then he frowned slightly. "Wait, you're going to a bar?"

"Yes."

"What're you gonna do at a bar?"

"We're gonna to get something to drink, Josh, that's what people do at a bar." She rolled over on her side again, while he stayed propped up behind her. "And after that we're going to pick up college guys."

"Oh, really?"

"You know, we'll knock back a few shots, see who can get the most phone numbers."

"Amy will."

"Excuse me?" She looked back over her shoulder in feigned indignation.

He shrugged. "Amy's not good at taking no for an answer."

"True." She reached an arm behind her. "Lie down, you're making me nervous." He obediently dropped to the mattress again, curling up behind her. She snuggled back, feeling drowsier by the minute. "You forget what I've got going for me, though."

"What?"

"I'm a blonde."

"I've noticed." He kissed the hair in question.

"That used to help me in bars," she pointed out reasonably. "Guys like blondes."

"S'true," he murmured, and she could feel the sleep settling into his body. She was feeling heavy with exhaustion herself. Neither said anything further, and a peaceful silence settled over their bedroom. Secure in Josh's arms, Donna drifted off to sleep, content with the knowledge that when they were together, breathing in tandem, no declarations or claims were needed. They knew this was the only place they could be.

**O**


End file.
